Pencils are Yellow so are Bruises
by Jaywing25
Summary: Prompt Six for writing competition. Skittery goes through every day life as an average middle schooler or not.


**This is prompt six for the writing competition. I somewhat based it loosely on my middle school experience.**

 **Prompts**

 **-Middle school**

 **-Obnoxious**

 **Word Count is 850**

Skittery decided in that moment and time that he would never, ever, ever give two rats behind about anything. He picked up his pencil and watched the two idiots walk away laughing.

The sting from falling captured his thumb and index finger after their encounter with the tiled ground. Forcing a smile on his lips like always, Skittery forced himself to his feet ignoring the ache of his crushed arm. Taking in the smell of books and bathroom cleaner, he began his walk to the doors.

Reaching his destination, his fears took form. The buses were gone and it had been raining all day. Skitts had to walk home, his Mother and Father worked, Racetrack had already left and the late buses were only meant for kids with extracurricular activities. He took out his phone and hit the speed dial for his mother, a voicemail came on.

"You have reached Racheal…"

Skittery hung up, sighed and stared outside. If he left now he could probably make it home before the thunder rolled in. Collecting himself, Skittery took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The chilling wind seized him and made his hood fall back. The rain pelted his grey hoodie and the wind tried to knock him over. His heavy backpack was the only thing keeping him in place.

For once in his life he was thankful he was bullied, it made him a fast runner. It was usually a twenty minute walk to his house. Ten minutes for each mile, but since he was running he would probably make it home in around thirteen minutes. The freezing rain was also a good motivator.

Skittery wanted to puke, his arm burned from being shoved to the ground and his stomach begged for food, someone randomly dumped his tray before he even started eating. His shoes were already soaked from running in puddles

When he did get home, he couldn't get his key out of his backpack quick enough. He stumbled inside and ran to his room and searched for his pajamas and rushed in to the shower. He didn't want to risk getting a cold.

Skittery probably spent around thirty minutes under the warm shower head. The water made the bruises on the right side of his body sting.

Once the mirror un-fogged Skittery took a look at himself. His right bicep was mainly painted in greens and yellows. He would need to wear long sleeves to hide the alterations on his skin from his mom.

Sighing, he pulled the Chicago cubs shirt over himself and walked out of the bathroom and into his room he turned on the TV. Ready to get lost in the world of CSI.

* * *

Skittery told himself he wasn't going to care but it was getting to him. A week after the raining incident, he found himself in Math Class, while the kid behind him, found places to poke him with his pointy pencil.

"Stop it Moises"

The boy chuckled "Tell me I'm swagmasta and I'll leave you alone"

"No I won't say something so stupid. Leave me alone"

"Have it your way"

The poking continued for ten more minutes until Skittery turned around and chucked his pencil towards the trash can.

Moises made a "tshh" sound with his tongue and stood to get back his pencil. He quit for five minutes until he found something obnoxious and new to bug him with.

"Someone told me you smoke weed"

Skittery rolled his eyes.

"Ronald said you told him you were gay"

He didn't know any Ronald's and he wasn't gay.

"Martha kept going on about how you're too lame for her party"

Martha was just jealous Skittery beat her in the Book Club competition.

"She said you ate your frog"

His frog died naturally.

If it wasn't for the bell it would've continued endlessly.

* * *

This was it. He had finally done it. He told on Moises and the teacher moved him.

"You're dead"

The pale boy approached him, his cohorts following short behind.

"Do you like sandwiches? Cause I'm about to make you a knuckle one"

Skittery had been in this situation many a time. It was no surprise. The only thing he could do was endure the punches and wait for that right moment to make a dash through and escape.

Their fists rained down on him like they had done so before. It didn't hurt his stomach anymore, he was used to it.

A sore body and a bleeding nose later Skittery stood and regained himself. He went into an empty boy's bathroom and washed the blood away. He opened a stall and sat on the toilet, his nose plugged with toilet paper. Glancing down at his watch Skittery found out, only five more minutes of Lunch were allowed. He had to return to class. But how could he in his condition?

The teachers would freak out when they saw him. He had no choice but to sit there, hungry and hurt, waiting for the digital watch on his hand tick away the hours until it was time to go home.


End file.
